


In His Time Of Need

by RagingBookDragon



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Batman: A Death in the Family, Canonical Character Death, Father-Son Relationship, Forgiveness, Heavy Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:21:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22141723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RagingBookDragon/pseuds/RagingBookDragon
Summary: When Bruce wakes up trapped in an unfamiliar location, it'll take a ghost to remind him to keep fighting on; that things weren't his fault.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	In His Time Of Need

**Author's Note:**

> I love the smell of angst the first thing in the morning! This is from my Tumblr, 'RagingBookDragon' and I hope you enjoy! -Thorne <3

The second his eyes snapped open and he took in the sight of the metal surroundings, he knew he was in real trouble this time. He turned his head, eyes scanning the metal, and he moved towards the small window. He leaned back, shoving the heel of his boot against the glass as hard as he could. It didn’t budge, and he kept at it for a good few minutes. When he stopped, a dull ache spread up through his leg, and he shoved his face up against the glass, looking around outside. He had no idea where he was, the wall of maybe a warehouse facing back at him. He sat back against the old leather bench, gathering his thoughts and trying to take in all that was around him. Old wires, frayed leather seats, rusted metal panels…each look he took it became clear what he was inside; an old deep-sea diving submarine. The question, he thought, what am I doing inside?

_“Well, I figured that one was fairly obvious Bruce. I mean, you wake up in a sealed metal tank and your first thought isn’t, ‘holy crap I’ve been buried alive?”_ He froze at the voice but didn’t turn. _“What’s a matter B? Scared to look at me?”_ His eyes drifted to the front of the sub, and he saw the boy squatting down, elbows resting on his knees, a grin on his face. _“You’re not gonna tell me you’ve forgotten me, have you?”_ Bruce looked away, shame and sadness crawling up his spine; his voice was quiet as he murmured,

“No…I could never forget you… _Jason_.” The boy jumped, a hoot of victory coming from his lips. It fell short as he smacked his head against the ceiling, and he bent over, curses falling from his mouth as he rubbed his head.

_“Shit! My head! Ow!”_ A snort caught his attention, and he jerked up, glaring at the man. _“Stop laughing at me! I am in pain!”_ This made Bruce laugh harder, and Jason broke into giggles with him. When they finally calmed down, Jason said, _“You know this is the first time you’ve laughed in months, right?”_ Jason glanced down at his feet, scuffing his boot against the floor. _“I mean, this is the first time you’ve even smiled since Ethiopia.”_ The smile slid off Bruce’s face, and he replied,

“I don’t have a reason to smile or laugh.” Jason rolled his eyes, moving past him to the hatch.

_“Alright Ebenezer. If that’s how you feel about it.”_ He gripped the wheel, grunting as he tried to turn it. _“Man, this thing is tight!”_ He let go, turning to Bruce; he motioned to the wheel. _“You try.”_ Bruce stood, moving past him and trying to turn it. After a moment, Jason leaned against the side, glancing at the ceiling. _“So…how much air is in this thing?”_ Bruce could feel the sweat beginning to run down his spine as he pulled harder, gritting out,

“Average male lung….capacity…seven-fifty…cubic centimeters…based on…space in here…two…hours…” He grunted, letting go of the wheel, reaching up and wiping is brow. “Maybe less. Give or take a few minutes.” Jason hummed, still looking at the ceiling.

_“How do you plan on getting out?”_ He glanced at Bruce, then pointed to his waist. _“Whoever put you in here took your utility belt.”_ Bruce took a deep breath, moving back to the bench and sitting down, hands folding together as he rested his elbows on his knees. He stared out the window, avoiding the boy, even as he took a seat beside him. Silence enveloped them, save for the sound of Jason humming a tune from a song Bruce couldn’t recognize. A second later, Jason asked, _“Are we gonna talk about Ethiopia?”_ The reply was so sudden, the boy didn’t expect it.

“No.” Jason turned, a curious gaze in his eye.

_“Why not?”_ Bruce didn’t look at him, eyes trained to the window; Jason crossed his arms, lips pulling into a frown. _“I think it might help if we talk about it.”_ Still, Bruce didn’t meet his gaze, only rising and moving to the window, fingers curling around the metal rim. Jason watched, speaking to him. _“I mean, you’ve blamed yourself for it since you got back. Don’t you think it’s time to understand that you weren’t to blame? We can talk about-”_ Bruce spun around, voice rising with each word he said.

**_“But it was my fault! I told you to stay knowing full well that you would go to save her! I wasn’t fast enough to save you! I-”_** His voice cut off, and he hung his head. Jason stared in shock as Bruce whispered, **_“I failed you Jason.”_** He brought a hand up, covering his eyes. Jason watched his lips wobble and he choked out, **_“I killed my boy…I killed my son…”_** Bruce sucked in a breath, the tears running down his cheeks as the memories played in his head; then he heard,

_“…So…do you want to see if I can shove my fist in my mouth?”_ Bruce huffed a laugh, lowering his hand and looking up at the boy sitting across from him. Jason gestured to his curled fist and Bruce said,

“This isn’t the way you’re supposed to comfort someone who’s crying.” Jason threw his hands in the air, his voice exasperated as he cried,

_“Well what am I supposed to do?! I’ve never seen you cry before! This is Bruce Wayne…the Batman, we’re talking about! This is like watching Dick walk past a jungle gym and not go absolutely bat-shit insane as he tries to flip off it!”_ Jason waved his hand in Bruce’s direction. _“You crying is not normal! You crying is like-”_ He cut himself off, voice rising in disbelief. _“Are you laughing right now?”_ Bruce clapped a hand over his mouth, but it was in vain. Laughter spilled from him, and he reached up, wiping the tears away from his cheeks. Jason waved a hand and sat down. _“Holy crap. There is something wrong with you.”_ Bruce let out a final laugh, back sliding down the wall of the submarine. He rested his head back against the wall and sighed,

“Yeah…you aren’t the first to tell me that Jay.”

_“Probably won’t be the last either.”_ Bruce snorted, nodding his head. _“Bruce.”_ He looked at Jason who wore a solemn expression. _“It wasn’t your fault Bruce. I know you tried to get to me, and I know you did the best you could.”_ He held out his hand, waiting for Bruce to take it. Bruce’s eyes glanced to the outstretched hand and he reached out, grasping it gently; Jason squeezed his hand tight and said, _“I don’t blame you for what happened to me Bruce.”_ Jason smiled at Bruce, letting go of his hand. A few minutes passed them by, and Bruce stood up, making his way back to the hatch. After trying to turn it a few times, he silently cursed and turned around, looking in the openings and spaces inside the sub. Jason watched him curiously. _“What’re you doing?”_ Bruce grunted as he rummaged through a box.

“Hatch is rusted shut. In order to get it open, I need something that’ll give it enough slack so I can twist it.” Jason hummed then quipped,

_“What about this?”_ Bruce turned, eyeing the can in his hand; he reached for it, reading the label.

“Lard?” Jason shrugged.

_“Honestly I have no idea what that is.”_ Bruce sighed, cracking open the container.

“It’s animal fat. And it’ll work.” He pulled the lid off, immediately turning his face away; Jason let out an exaggerated gag.

_“That smells terrible!”_ Bruce nodded, making his way to the hatch.

“It’s gone bad.” He reached in, scooping a handful out and smearing the wheel and all around it. When it seemed like enough, Bruce set the container down and wiped his hand on his leg. He gripped the wheel and pulled down as hard as he could.

_“You do remember the whole, ‘righty tighty, lefty loosie’…right?”_ Bruce let out a deep breath through his nose and grunted,

“Yes Jason, I remember.”

_“Are you sure?”_ Jason’s voice was amused as he quipped, _“Because you’re turning it to the right.”_ Bruce froze, then started turning the opposite direction,

**“I knew that.”**

_“Uh huh.”_

**“I was just testing you.”**

_“I’m dead not stupid Bruce.”_

**“Never said you were stupid Jay.”**

_“Meh…you were thinking it.”_

“Jay, I-” Bruce’s words were cut off as the wheel gave, twisting around. Jason stood up, moving to the hatch.

_“You got it!”_ Bruce grinned as he turned the wheel. He glanced at Jason, placing a hand on his shoulder and moving him back.

“Stand back so you don’t get hit.” Jason’s mouth opened, but he snapped it shut, watching as Bruce pulled as hard as he could. The hatch popped open and a brush of fresh air entered the sub. Bruce inhaled deeply, already beginning to climb out.

_“Bruce.”_ He turned, looking back at Jason, then held out his hand.

“C’mon. We have to get out of here.” Jason gave a sad smile, reaching up and scratching the mop of hair on his head.

_“I can’t go Bruce…not anymore.”_ Bruce’s face dropped, and his hand lowered to his side, reality shifting back into focus.

“…Right…I forgot.” Jason hummed, sitting back on the bench.

_“It’s okay…we all forget sometimes.”_ He nodded at the outside. _“You’d better get going. Whoever put you here is still out there.”_ Bruce nodded, and as he climbed out, he stopped, mouth opening and closing as he tried to form the words to the question in his mind; Jason waited patiently, then after a moment, Bruce quietly asked,

**_“Did you ever…regret it? Any of it? At all?”_** Jason smiled and shook his head.

_“I never regretted stealing the tires off the Batmobile for a second.”_ Bruce stared at the boy and gave him a smile.

**_“Goodbye Jason.”_** He turned, stepping out of the sub. And as he walked off, he heard a bittersweet reply.

_“Goodbye…dad.”_


End file.
